


When Summer's Over

by SideStepping



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SideStepping/pseuds/SideStepping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur had fully intended on spending the five day long cruise relaxing. What he hadn't planned for was becoming the victim of a murder attempt, discovering the existence of magic, and falling head over heels in love with the clumsy waiter who spilled a bottle of wine down him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ART: When Summer's Over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711316) by [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/pseuds/fingerprintbruises). 



> This is for the [Merlin Reverse Big Bang 2015](http://merlinreversebb.livejournal.com). 
> 
> It was great to work with [bend_me_baby](http://bend_me_baby.livejournal.com) on this fic and her artwork is incredible! This fic took me out of a comfort zone a bit but it was really great to write and I hope you like the result! Thanks also to bend_me_baby for being a completely epic beta - this fic would not have been finished otherwise!
> 
> Many thanks to the RVBB mods as well!

The rain was coming down in sheets by the time Arthur actually arrived at the port. They'd been caught up in a snarl of traffic and forced to sit and wait as the time ticked by. Fortunately, Arthur had insisted they'd leave early, and whilst Morgana had nearly ruined everything by deciding at last minute she didn't have enough dresses, by some great stroke of luck, and some less than legal driving on his driver's behalf, they'd made it.

There was still well over an hour before the ship was set to depart and Arthur was finally letting the stress ease a bit as they checked in. His driver, Aaron, dealt with the luggage and Arthur opened up his umbrella to shelter both himself and Morgana as they headed up the gangway. Rain and wind buffeted them in cold blasts. Over the side of the ship, grey waves, speckled with raindrops, surged and swelled. He half wondered how Morgana was still upright considering the 4-inch heels and the slipperiness of the gangway, but after seeing her go at a run, taking on a hoard of other screaming women at a fashion sale once in those very same heels, he reasoned that there wasn't much to be concerned about.

A gust of warmth and the smiling faces of the crew greeted them once they'd boarded, the cold and the rain shut off behind the heavy door. Calm yellow lighting bathed the atrium and above them, the ceiling opened out to where the staircase swung upwards to the other decks and two large candelabras glittered.

“Hmm,” Morgana said, making an appreciative noise as she looked around. “It'll do.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but took his sister's arm none the less as they let the stewards direct them towards the lifts, passing under the sweeping curve of one flight of stairs to where the row of lifts waited.

They were just waiting for theirs to arrive when a familiar voice called out, making Arthur turn round, a smile gracing his lips.

“Arthur!”

“Leon!”

The taller, ginger haired man pulled Arthur into a hug, patting him firmly on the back.

“You're looking well,” Leon commented. “And Morgana, a pleasure as always,” he added, a smile tugging his lips as he turned to embrace Morgana also.

“Oh, stop with the formalities, Leon,” Morgana said, hitting him lightly on the arm. “We're here to have fun.”

“Have you passed that memo on to Arthur?” Leon asked, a wry grin on his face.

“Once we'd finally dragged him away from his office, yes,” Morgana replied. Arthur scowled.

“And Uther's ok with all this?”

“Father is just like he always is when Arthur wants to take time off,” Morgana replied, looping her arm through Leon's as the lift arrived and steering him into it, Arthur bringing up the rear.

“And how's that?” Leon asked, but his question was directed at Arthur, concern creasing his eyes.

Arthur shook his head and didn't answer.

“You should tell him, you know, that you don't like being overworked.”

Leon gave Morgana a meaningful look and elbowed her to shut up, but Morgana just ploughed on. “In fact why not just quit? You don't owe him anything, Arthur.”

“Yes, thank you, Morgana,” Arthur said tightly.

Morgana narrowed her eyes, but thankfully didn't respond. In truth, Arthur knew she was right. He couldn't stay working for their father much longer. It wasn't doing him any good.

“So,” Leon said, looking pained and glancing between the siblings, “what rooms are the two of you in?”

“Morgana's in a forward balcony cabin and I've got the suite next door,” Arthur said. “We're both on deck 8. You?”

“Deck 8, but I'm further aft.”

“Don't see why I couldn't have had a suite,” Morgana said childishly.

Leon elbowed her more fiercely this time. “Stop whining, Morgana. Arthur treats you enough as it is and you full well know he's paid for this whole cruise.”

Morgana gave a smirk. “Yes, but it was me who convinced him to take us.”

“And why I agreed, I'll never understand,” Arthur said, looking heavenward for an explanation as to why he'd willingly boarded a boat with his sister for a week.

The lift arrived at their deck at that moment and Leon left them promising to find them again shortly and Morgana and Arthur followed a steward as he led them to their cabins.

After tipping the steward and making sure Morgana was happy, Arthur entered his own room.

A great sigh escaped him as the door shut behind him and he let himself relax against the wood. The suite was large and exquisitely furnished. A lounge area opened onto his bedroom and a bathroom was connected to that. Wide windows gave him a full view of the port they would soon be leaving behind. Rain was still splattering the glass and the water was looking rough, but Arthur had never been seasick on cruises and boat trips before.

Crossing the room, he rested his head against the cool glass, looking down at the port below and the cars coming and going, umbrellas flapping wildly in the wind.

He let out a breath, his shoulders loosening and the ache behind his eyes which had been constant for the past few weeks eased a little.

A holiday. Strange concept.

Sitting on the edge of a couch, he rested his elbows on his knees, interlocking his fingers as he stared unseeingly at the room around him.

 _Snap out of it, Arthur. You're meant to be enjoying yourself_.

He didn't need Morgana to tell him so. He didn't need Morgana's constant reminders that he was being overworked. But every attempt to pass this on to his father had died in his throat.

“This is the future, Arthur. Your future. My future. Your mother's precious legacy. Now tell me you'd see all that go to waste?”

Arthur swallowed hard and composed himself as a knock came at the door.

“Arthur? It's me.” It was Morgana.

Arthur got up from where he'd been sitting, unsure if he really wanted to see Morgana in that moment because she'd probably only carry on about Uther.

He let her in, watching as she inspected the room and nodded approvingly.

“Well, this is going to be splendid,” she said, crossing to the window. “I just hope the rain stops.”

“It's meant to soon, I think,” Arthur replied, joining her to look out.

Morgana's soft touch on his arm made him startle, but Morgana was completely sincere for once, her eyes wide and compassionate.

“This is for you, Arthur.”

“I know, Morgana,” Arthur replied, a small, if a little sad, smile gracing his lips. “I know.”

Morgana squeezed his arm reassuringly and smiled more brightly.

“Excellent, well, I think it's time to explore now don't you?”

Raindrops streaked the glass of the window in Merlin's cabin as he sat watching the port get steadily further away. They'd left the port behind not long ago, a surge of white foam spreading behind them in the ship's wake. White capped waves rolled up against the side of the ship, but seemed to barely make a difference, the gentle tilting of the deck beneath his feet almost relaxing.

He was buzzing with excitement. The prospect of seven days on board, meeting new people, being out at sea, being on a cruise. He and his mum would never have been able to afford it, but working on board was the next best thing. He'd have to thank Uncle Gaius. Again. The child inside of him was jumping up and down with relentless energy and it was taking a lot to remain calm and not run up and down the staircases and strut along the deck as if he owned the place.

He and his best friend Will had lived in the town by the port for years and had always watched the tourists and the holiday makers coming and going. Merlin was so very deeply jealous, he'd always wanted to go to sea. Like his dad.

The door to the cabin opened and his roommate for the week, Gilli, entered. He looked a little green and sat down quickly as the floor tilted a little.

“I think I might need some air,” he said, putting his head between his knees as the ship rolled again.

“It's raining,” Merlin pointed out.

Gilli glanced up, frowning a little. “How are you not …” He paused, his face paling rapidly and his last word was muffled as he stuck his head back down again, “sick?”

“I love being on the sea,” Merlin said, hopping down from where he'd been perched by the window and crossing the small space to sit opposite Gilli on his own bed. “My dad was a sailor. Mum says I've inherited my sea legs from him.”

“Have you been on many boats before?” Gilli asked, his voice wobbling.

Merlin had to admit the swell was getting up at that point, but he still felt blissfully fine.

“A few. I lived by the sea when I was younger and my uncle owned a sailing dinghy. He was the one who got me this job actually.” Merlin paused. “Why are you working on a cruise if you get seasick?”

“My mates told me it'd be fun,” Gilli replied thinly.

“Ah. Bad luck. I'm sure it'll clear up.”

Gilli made a throaty noise of thanks.

Merlin checked his watch, glancing again briefly at the land disappearing behind them.

“I've got work to do so I'll see you later?” He was on his feet again, bouncing with energy to get going.

“Yeah. See you.”

Merlin left, leaving Gilli blindly reaching for Dramamine. Beyond the cabin, the corridor stretched left and right. Merlin turned left, keeping his balance even as the floor rose and fell beneath his feet. It was a bad swell, and Merlin didn't doubt a storm was coming. He hoped it would blow over soon, he and Will had seen storms rage at this section of coast for days on end and bunking with Gilli wouldn't be much fun if this kept up.

He rounded a corner and walked headlong into a pile of laundry. Said pile of laundry squeaked and toppled. A pretty, dark skinned and curly haired girl appeared from behind the pile and she immediately dropped to the floor, to pick up the sheets.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you! And all the sheets are creased now!” She pulled the sheets back into a pile, trying to smooth them down.

Merlin knelt to help her.

“No, honestly, it was my fault!” he insisted, “I wasn't watching where I was going!”

“Oh, you don't have to help!” she responded, clearly flustered and almost snatching a sheet from Merlin's hands. “I haven't got my sea-legs yet.” She gave a tentative giggle.

“You don't have to apologise,” Merlin pressed, smiling as wide brown eyes blinked up at him.

“I'm Merlin,” he said after a beat, sticking out his hand.

Pausing in her sorting of the laundry, she took it. “Gwen.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Merlin said, grinning as he helped her lift the laundry again. “Is this your first time on a cruise?”

“Oh no, I've done a few,” Gwen responded, sticking her head over the top of the sheets, “Have you done many before?”

“This is my first,” Merlin said.

“That's exciting! What are you going to be doing?”

“I'm a waiter,” Merlin said, “so serving food, trying not to spill it everywhere, that sort of thing.”

“I'm a steward,” Gwen responded, “so, cleaning rooms, leading people around, trying not to run into people whilst holding piles of laundry.” She giggled again.

“I'm sure you're great at it,” Merlin replied. He checked his watch and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. “I've got to be going, I need to set up for dinner. See you around?”

“Sure.” Gwen gave him a beaming smile and then slipped past him, carefully adjusting the sheets so she could see.

Instead of letting up, however, the weather only worsened as the day passed and Merlin saw more than one green face as he prepared for dinner. His assistant was a shy kid called Daegal who helped him to spread the cloths on the tables and lay the cutlery and napkins.

“You excited?” Merlin asked as they laid the final few places and straightened up the chairs.

“Yeah,” Daegal replied, “you?”

“Definitely,” Merlin grinned. He ran his eye down the menu for that evening again, checking the soup of the day and what vegetables were being offered. He had three tables to look after with the help of Daegal and he was determined not to get anything wrong. He'd always wanted to be on a cruise, and he didn't want to let Gaius down.

He spotted Gilli, looking thankfully less green, down, across the dining hall and gave him a cheery wave. Gilli waved back before being snapped at by the waiter he was working with to pay attention. Gilli jumped, but gave a sheepish grin in Merlin's direction which he returned.

“Well, I think we're ready,” Daegal said, smoothing down the corner of the table cloth.

Merlin checked his watch and saw they still had a little time before dinner, so he wandered across toward the serving hatch for the kitchen. Delicious smells wafted out and Merlin paused for a moment, watching the frantic preparations going on, the chefs darting about and listening to the orders of the head chef over the clatter of pans and noise of the friers.

It wasn't long before the guests began to arrive. Stewards directed them to their tables and Merlin headed back over to join Daegal as the first few sat down. Merlin quickly swept round to offer menus to a couple that had arrived. The woman was nothing short of stunning, pale skin and a wave of dark hair which tumbled over her shoulder, the man with her, tall, curly haired and wearing a smart, black tuxedo smiled at Merlin as he came to the table.

“Good evening, I'm Merlin and I'll be your waiter for this evening,” he said, a bright smile breaking on his face. He handed out the menus and helped Daegal serve water and bread. He turned at one point to find the dark haired lady watching him, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were assessing him for something. He busied himself quickly with folding napkins.

He took their orders and when he came back, only one of the chairs was empty.

“Where's Arthur?” the curly haired man asked the lady as Merlin poured the drinks.

“Late, as usual,” the lady smirked, taking a sip of water.

The man snorted. “Arthur's never late. He'd turn up half an hour early if he could.”

“Well, maybe today is the day, Leon” the lady said, a knowing smile dancing in her eyes.

“Morgana,” Leon said, frowning slightly, “what have you done?”

“Nothing!” Morgana replied, hitting his playfully on the arm, “look, here he is.”

Merlin moved away at that point to attend someone else and when he returned, the final seat had been filled by a blonde man who was leaning in close to say something to Leon. Leon looked for a moment like he wanted to say something, but the other man, presumably Arthur, quietened him with a wave of his hand, sitting back and letting his gaze wander over the dining room.

Merlin stepped forward then, offering a menu.

“Good evening, I'm Merlin and I'll be your waiter for this evening. How can I help?”

He guessed he must have caught Arthur off-guard a little as he was quiet for a long moment, blinking at Merlin, a crease of confusion in his forehead. He seemed to recover, however, before raising an eyebrow, a smirk quirking his lips.

“ _Mer_ lin?” he drawled.

Merlin gave a tight smile. In fairness, it wasn't the first time someone had taken the mickey out of his name, but his mother had made the point that considering certain _special abilities_ of his, no other name would really have fitted. He blinked and kept smiling, Arthur couldn't know, couldn't possibly conceive the fact that magic was real and this Merlin was as magically inclined as his namesake.

“Would I be able to get you a drink?” he asked.

Arthur, still smirking, requested the wine list, but as Merlin left the table he heard a woman on the other side of Arthur, speak.

“Honestly, Arthur Pendragon, don't be so mean!”

“I wasn't being mean, Mithian, it was joke!”

Merlin disappeared before more could be said and when he returned, the conversation had moved on.

He handed over the wine menu and took orders, bringing back a bottle of pinot, which he didn't hesitate to notice was the most expensive on the list. His mood towards the less than polite Arthur soured somewhat.

Uncorking the bottle, he poured a little into Arthur's glass and waited for him to sample it. At the approving nod, Merlin leaned over to fill the glass.

At that moment, Daegal moved passed, tripped slightly and bumped into Merlin whose grip on the bottle slipped, and it tumbled from his grasp.

Chaos ensued.

Arthur jerked backwards in his seat with a yelp, his once pristine, white shirt now stained a violent red. Merlin failed to catch the bottle, and only just managed to catch himself from freezing it in the air with magic. Red wine went everywhere.

Several people jumped to their feet and there was more than one cry of shock. Arthur's face went from red to puce in a surprisingly short amount of time and he shot to his feet, ineffectively trying to wipe away the wine stain with a napkin.

Merlin's eyes widened, a hand coming up to cover his mouth because in that moment he inexplicably felt the need to laugh. Daegal looked mortified. Mithian was suggesting tossing her glass of white wine over Arthur as well to lessen the damage. Morgana and Leon were in fits of laughter.

“What is going on?”

Merlin leapt about a foot in the air at the sound of Bayard's, the head waiter's voice. The laughter which had bubbled up inside of him sputtered and died as quickly as it had come.

“This clumsy excuse of a waiter has thrown wine all over me,” Arthur jumped in, looking nothing short of furious.

Prat. Merlin thought. It clearly wasn't that bad and it wasn't entirely his fault either! He looked around for Daegal who seemed to have disappeared. He gave a resentful glare at Arthur just before he come under the scrutiny of Bayard.

“Emrys?” Bayard asked, his tone expectant.

“I'm … I'm sorry, sir. I just … slipped.” He shrugged a little. All of a sudden he didn't want to throw Daegal in the firing line, the kid had been so excited at the beginning of the night.

“Someone bumped into him,” Mithian spoke up, giving Arthur a reproving look. “It was an accident.”

“Hmm.” Bayard looked sharply at Merlin who tried not to fidget. “Accident or nay, we do have standards on our cruises, madam. Emrys, go back to your cabin. Ladies, gentlemen, I'll have someone else come and serve you.”

Merlin's heart sank. All of Gaius' hard work to get him hired, all his hopes of doing his dad proud by being out at sea … All ruined now.

He was hard pushed not to purposefully bump into Arthur as he left, instead he kept his head down and ignored the people watching him go.

Behind him, he heard Bayard turn to Arthur. “Now sir, I am so sorry for the inconvenience. We have a suit-hire service on board and you are welcome to replace your shirt, any cleaning charges will of course be covered.”

Merlin didn't wait to hear Arthur's response, anger and regret boiling up till he really hated the blonde prat who'd just had to make a scene. As quickly as he could, he slipped from the room, almost running back to his cabin and sinking down by the window with a sigh. It was still raining.

 

 


	2. Day Two

“The poor boy, you showed him up in front of everyone, Arthur!” Mithian gave Arthur a sharp look before returning to her drink. “There was no need to be so horrible.”

The rain had passed overnight and at this point they were sat together in one of the cruise's many lounges. Mithian was across a small table from Arthur, Morgana was next to Mithian and Leon had just gone to the bar for more drinks.

“I wasn't horrible,” Arthur sighed, a fact he'd been tiredly repeating since the previous night. “It was a shock, and he was a clumsy idiot anyway. I'm surprised he can even stand up on on the boat.”

“Someone bumped into him, I saw it. You could have stood up for him and you've probably lost him his job now,” Mithian said reproachfully, and Arthur couldn't help but feel like he was being told off.

“Why are you so bothered?” Arthur asked, his hackles rising because it had just been a stupid accident and they'd probably never see the big eared, dark haired man … _Merlin_ … again.

Across from Mithian, Morgana raised her eyes from the book she was reading, and the two women shared a wicked grin.

“What?” Arthur asked, frustratedly folding up his newspaper and slamming it down on the table next to him.

“He was … nice looking,” Morgana said, raising an eyebrow, the smile, more of a smirk now, not leaving her face.

Arthur scowled. “Your match-making skills need work, Morgana.”

“You can't deny he's your type though,” Morgana continued. Arthur glared, she was pushing the limits of his patience, and she knew it.

“How do you know what my type is? How do you know I even have a type?”

“Well, you can't forget Mordred,” Morgana said, raising her book as it to hide behind it.

“No, you really can't,” Leon said, returning with the drinks and giving a pained expression at the memory of Mordred. It was one Arthur fully shared.

“Mordred was a psycho who tried to kill me,” Arthur said, staring down into his drink as if contemplating his life choices, namely his choice to go on a week long cruise with Morgana of all people.

“Well, Merlin hasn't tried to kill you … yet,” Mithian pointed out.

“Although I bet he wanted to after all that fuss with the wine,” Morgana added.

“So, I guess there's hope?” Mithian said, clearly trying to hide laughter.

“For heaven's sake,” Arthur said, grimacing at Leon.

“Face it, Arthur, you're doomed,” Leon said.

“Doomed?” Arthur asked.

“To always be a bachelor,” Morgana replied.

Arthur sighed, tiredly tilting his head back to look for some form of escape. Morgana looked ready to say something, but Mithian, gauging the situation perfectly like she always did, spoke up first.

“The weather's cleared up nicely, do you want to go on deck?” she asked, draining the last of her drink.

Leon, taking Mithian's cue, practically dragged Morgana out of her chair. Morgana pouted, clearly not ready to give up teasing yet, but let Leon lead her away. Mithian got to her feet, a sad sort of smile on her face.

“Come on, Arthur, come and have a walk and get it all out.”

* * *

They came out onto the deck to find it bathed in bright sunlight. The decking below them was steaming slightly as the rain water evaporated. Bright blue sea stretched on either side, white-capped waves tumbling against the bows of the boat.

Mithian linked her arm through Arthur's, giving him a bright smile.

“So,” she said, “what's making you so grumpy?”

“Grumpy? Me?” Arthur said, feigning affront.

“Come on, you never let Morgana get to you that much,” Mithian replied. “Is something wrong? Uther? You can talk to me, you know.”

Arthur was quiet for a moment, feeling a swell of gratification towards Mithian, but at the same time trying to shy away from what she was asking.

“You don't want to hear my problems,” he said, “we're here to enjoy ourselves.”

“And you're not enjoying yourself!” Mithian insisted.

Arthur sighed and led Mithian to sit down at a table and chairs, not far away from the pool which was sparkling in the sunlight.

“Father didn't want me to come on holiday,” Arthur said, fixating his gaze on a mark on the tabletop. “He was trying to talk me out of it for weeks.”

“Well you're here now,” Mithian pointed out, “he can't do anything now.”

Arthur hummed in agreement. “He'll blame me for everything when I make it back though,” he said, scowling.

“Maybe you should leave the job?” Mithian suggested, looking a little timid as to how Arthur might react.

Arthur grimaced and shook his head. “You sound like Morgana.”

“And much as I'm loathe to admit it,” Mithian said, “she's right.”

Arthur forced a laugh.

“Anyway, you're here on holiday now and your father is far away. So you have no reason to be grumpy and spoil it for the rest of us,” Mithian said. Her honest bluntness was, in some way, what Arthur needed to hear.

“Still,” he said, “I can't help but think Morgana's right about the other thing too.”

“What thing?”

“That I'm doomed to be a bachelor,” Arthur said, giving a wry smile.

“Oh, for goodness sake! Stop wallowing in self pity, Arthur Pendragon,” Mithian admonished, reaching over the table and hitting him affectionately over the head. “Your ego is big enough so I won't tell you that anyone would be lucky to have you, but there you have it. Stop being so pessimistic.”

Arthur laughed. “It would have been you if my father had had his way.”

“And a poor, unfortunate soul I would have been,” Mithian said, giving a fake shudder of distaste. “You chose your heart, Arthur. And that was the right thing to do.”

“You wouldn't have been a terrible wife,” Arthur said, a teasing note coming into his voice.

“And you wouldn't have been too terrible a husband I suppose,” Mithian responded dryly, raising an eyebrow. “But it's wouldn't have been love.”

“Who even knows what the word means anymore!” Arthur snorted. “I'm sure I--”

He stopped short at the sight of someone over Mithian's shoulder.

“What is he doing here?”

Mithian swivelled in her seat and her face fell.

“Arthur, just … just don't look at him, he might not notice …” she sighed, “too late.”

Across the pool, a tall, greasy haired man had laid his eyes on the pair of them.

“Do you think we should move?” Mithian asked, looking worried. “I mean, they never proved he and Mordred were connected--”

“Don't worry, Mithian,” Arthur said calmly, maintaining eye contact with Cenred across the deck. “He won't try anything here.”

After a moment, Cenred moved on and Arthur released the tension in his shoulders. His mood had taken a sharp turn downwards and it took a moment to steady his breathing.

“We should tell someone,” Mithian said.

“No,” Arthur replied quickly, “I'm not letting him know I'm afraid of him.”

“Don't be stupid, Arthur! It's not about courage and bravery, he might hurt you!” Mithian was getting to her feet and Arthur grabbed her wrist.

“Please, just … I'll be on my guard, but I'm not letting him know he's got to me. And … if I can catch him out it might be the only opportunity to find out what happened with my mother.”

Mithian's face changed from worry to sympathy. “Oh, Arthur …”

“Promise me you won't do anything,” Arthur pressed.

Mithian sighed. “Fine. But it's your funeral.”

Arthur grimaced at how true her words might be, but didn't say anything. It had only been after Mordred's attempt on Arthur's life, and the following investigation into Cenred's involvement, that any suggestion of Cenred's hand in Arthur's mother's death had been made. It had been a difficult time for them all, and the memories of his mother's death, which had been painful enough for Arthur, had been brought into sharp relief.

It was no secret that Cenred was after the Pendragon fortune, and the company. Apparently some long distant connection in the past meant it was rightfully his, well at least according to Cenred. But no matter how much Arthur and his father had tried, they'd never been able to pin him for anything.

If there was a chance he could now, Arthur wasn't going to let that chance go.

“Don't worry, I'm sure I've done much worse.”

Merlin passed a hand over his eyes, but couldn't help but grin at what Gwaine said.

“There was definitely a plate of food once,” Gwaine continued, “in someone's face.”

On the other side of the table, Gwen giggled.

The crew bar was relatively empty, and Merlin had been nursing a pint for most of the afternoon. His morning had been pretty terrible. Bayard had had a meeting with him to let him know he was stood down from his duties at dinner and was to help with setting the tables, nothing more. The man who had replaced him, George, Merlin recalled his name was, had kept giving Merlin disapproving looks as they set up for lunch and had lectured him lengthily on the correct way to fold napkins.

Ending up in the bar with a desperate idea to drink away his troubles, he'd been fortunate enough to meet Gwen again and by extension, Gwaine, whom Gwen had met earlier that day.

“It was so embarrassing,” Merlin moaned, “and I'm sorry, but George? He's like twelve of my worst nightmares rolled into one.”

Daegal had tried to apologise and offered to speak to Bayard, but Merlin had refused. It hadn't been Daegal's fault any more than it had been Merlin's.

“Nah, it'll blow over. Bayard will let you back on by tomorrow I'm sure,” Gwaine said, giving Merlin a consoling pat on the back.

Merlin grimaced, but gave a small smile as well to thank Gwaine.

“I'd probably die if I spilled wine all over someone,” Gwen said, biting her lip a second later. “Sorry, that probably didn't help, did it?”

“There's probably better ways to comfort people,” Gwaine said, “but don't worry, Merlin only has to look at that charming smile of yours and he'll feel better straight away.”

Gwen's blushed furiously and ducked her head. Merlin groaned.

“No. That was terrible. Bad flirting is not allowed,” he said.

Gwaine grinned. “Would you prefer it if I complimented you?”

Merlin hesitated for a second, then shook his head violently. “No. No, I don't think i'd be able to stop my vomiting reflex.”

“Aw, come on! Surely you've had people compliment you before?”

Merlin snorted derisively.

“Look at you, all big blue eyes and cheekbones.”

He pulled a face.

“He's right, Merlin,” Gwen said, “you are good looking!”

“Yes, and my track record of being desperately single clearly proves that,” Merlin deadpanned.

“I can help with that if you want,” Gwaine said, raising an eyebrow far too suggestively for Merlin ever to feel comfortable again.

“How do you know I even like guys?” Merlin asked.

Gwaine flicked his hair out of his face. “I find few people can resist my charm, whichever way they swing.”

Merlin and Gwen exchanged a glance and both simultaneously collapsed into giggles.

“What?” Gwaine asked, looking genuinely put out.

“Oh, nothing. No, you're lovely really, Gwaine. It's just I'm already spoken for,” Gwen said, a shy smile on her face.

“Competition?” Gwaine said, slamming a hand down on the table. “Let me at him.”

Gwen bit her lip. “He's working the bar.”

Merlin and Gwaine both turned around to look and the tanned, dark haired, drop dead gorgeous man who gave them a small smile back, made Gwaine's shoulders slump.

“There's no beating that,” he said solemnly.

“Face it, it's a lost cause,” Merlin responded, repeating Gwaine's earlier gesture and giving him a pat on the back.

Gwaine looked glum for a moment, before he sprang up again.

“You didn't answer my question,” he said, rounding on Merlin.

“There was a question?” Merlin asked, feeling the sudden desire to hide behind his pint glass.

“Which way do you swing, also – me. Is there ever any hope?”

Merlin sighed. Whilst he'd never been particularly shy about his sexuality, he's never been overly open either, and having it demanded of him by someone who was, by no means terrible looking – who was he kidding? Gwaine was gorgeous – was no small way out of his comfort zone.

“Gwaine, leave him alone,” Gwen said, whacking his on the arm.

“Not until he answers the question,” Gwaine persisted.

“I like men,” Merlin responded, with a shrug. “I'm gay. There you go.”

“Excellent. Now, the other bit.” Gwaine practically bounced in his chair.

Merlin didn't quite know what was up with him. Here was Gwaine, good-looking, genuine and showing an actual interest in him like no other man ever had. But for some reason, he was holding back.

“No thanks,” Merlin replied, giving Gwaine a sad sort of smile. “I don't think I'm really up for that sort of thing.”

Gwaine tilted his head on one side. “Waiting for the perfect person?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Merlin replied, knocking back the last of his drink.

“I'm sure you'll find him!” Gwen said, giving him a reassuring smile.

“And if your prince charming ever fails you, your knight in shining armour is ready and waiting,” Gwaine added.

Merlin chuckled appreciatively.

“Oh!” Gwen exclaimed suddenly, looking at her watch. “I've got to go. Keep out of trouble you two,” she said sternly.

Gwaine gave her a mock salute. “Will do, ma'am.”

Gwen giggled again and then left, pausing at the bar to exchange a kiss with the man there.

“I should probably be going, too,” Gwaine said, “see you around, Merlin.”

“Yeah, see you,” Merlin replied, a little despondently.

Once the other two had left he felt rather stupid sitting by himself so he got up to go for a walk and waste some time before he had to help set up for dinner again.

He had just made it to the door, however, when a man coming in blocked his way.

Merlin stepped back, waiting for him to pass, but the man also stopped, his eyes narrowing when he saw Merlin.

He was older than Merlin, blonde-brown hair curling round his ears and a strange scar across one side of his face. His piercing gaze swept Merlin up and down, and he gave a small smirk, as if knowing something Merlin didn't, before moving on.

Merlin watched him go, shivers running down his spine, before his reflexes caught up with him and he hurried out the door.

* * *

Merlin ended up walking up along the starboard side, breathing in deep lungfuls of sea air and letting the stress ease from his frame. There was something so comforting about the rise and fall of the deck below his feet, now a lot gentler than the previous day since the storm had passed.

The glare of the sunlight on the water hurt his eyes and he wished he'd brought his sunglasses out with him. After a moment though, an idea occurred to him and, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, he murmured a spell under his breath and the glare immediately lessened.

Grinning with his success, he took a moment to leisurely look around, taking pride in the fact he could look at the brightest of white surfaces without a problem.

Gaius had helped him with his magic over the years, training and practicing with it in a safe environment, but the reality was there just weren't books on how to use magic these days. Gaius said that none had survived the course of time, and that back in the days when magic was at its peak, there had been hundreds and hundreds.

He and Gaius had found that the best thing to do was to learn how to summon his magic and then direct it in the way he wanted. Gaius had said Old English, the ancient tongue, was best for directing magic and whilst it wasn't perfect, and Merlin wished and wished he had one of those fabled spell books, it was enough to control and contain his power.

_“Yeah, but what are you going to do with it?” Will had asked, shortly after he'd found out about Merlin's magic in an embarrassing event which involved a patch of ice and Merlin's inability to ride a bike._

_“Do with it?” Merlin replied, not really listening as he tried to get a troop of pens to perform acrobatics in mid air._

_“Well … it's great and all, having magic. But why you? What's it for?”_

_Merlin lost his concentration and the pens tumbled. He sighed and shrugged._

_“I don't know. It's not like I chose it.”_

_“The things you could do though,” Will said, sitting back and looking slightly awed._

_Merlin snorted. “Yes, I'm sure my mum would approve of me aiding bank heists.”_

_“How did you know I was thinking of bank heists?” Will asked, looking affronted._

_Merlin grinned. “You always are.”_

He wandered the decks for a while longer, watching pampered tourists enjoying the pool and the bar, people pasting on sunscreen and women in large floppy hats.

He was just walking past the pool when his roaming gaze landed on none other than Arthur Pendragon, sitting with Mithian, the lady who had spoken up for Merlin the previous night.

Merlin froze for a moment, a wild idea of going up to Arthur and confronting him, or maybe pouring another drink over him just to spite him, but Arthur seemed to be focused on something else, a tense, almost angry, expression on his face.

Without waiting for Arthur's ire to turn on him, Merlin slipped away.

Dinner that evening was a less extravagant affair, and Arthur dressed comfortably in a crisp white sports shirt and slacks. After a moment though, he switched to a blue shirt, not wanting to ruin another perfectly decent white shirt if all the wait staff turned out to be as incompetent as the one from the previous evening.

He did have to admit, however, that the evening had been a lot more dull after the incident with the wine. Their waiter George had barely even cracked a smile, and after the initial furore, there hadn't been much to say.

When he arrived at the table that evening, he was surprised to see Merlin once again serving. He had moved to another table to pour drinks and when Arthur sat down, Mithian gave him a mischievous wink.

“Apparently that George we had yesterday was sick so we've got Merlin back,” Morgana said, looking far too gleeful for such a banal piece of news.

“Good thing I chose the blue shirt and not the white one then,” Arthur replied, rolling his eyes.

It was at that moment though that Merlin chose to appear at their table and the glare he gave Arthur was a sure confirmation that he'd heard what Arthur had said.

“Would you like to see the menu, sir?” he asked, his tone a little sharp and laden with no small amount of sarcasm.

Arthur bit back his retort, feeling a little bad, and accepted the menu.

When Merlin moved away, Mithian leaned over.

“See? It's not so difficult to be nice!” she said.

As dinner progressed, Arthur began talking to the woman on his other side. Her name was Vivian and he had heard of her through family connections. He was startled though by the seemingly enormous amount she seemed to know about him.

“My father says you went to Cambridge?” she said, eyes wide and ignoring her meal in front of her which was rapidly going cold, in favour of grilling Arthur on every aspect of his life.

Arthur nodded his confirmation, taking a hasty drink to avoid answering.

“And you work for your father now?” Vivian continued, missing Arthur's minute freeze and the way he glanced over at Mithian in discomfort.

“Yes,” he replied, “I've worked for him since I left college.”

“My father says he can never thank Uther enough for helping him set up his company. He says becoming partners with Uther was the best moves of his career. You must have heard of my father? Olaf Kensington?”

Arthur nodded. He'd worked with Olaf on a few projects, the only memorable thing about him being his recounting of a particularly violent tale of when he'd had to chase a young man from the house with a knife after he'd been foolish enough to try and claim Vivian's heart.

“A wonderful man,” he said, meeting Leon's gaze over the table and giving a pained grimace.

Vivian practically glowed. She leaned forward suggestively, smiling somewhat like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse.

“He said you were a delight to work with,” she purred.

Arthur sensed someone behind him and looked up to find Merlin standing close by and watching intently. For some reason, Arthur found a blush working its way to his cheeks and an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, and the fact that Merlin had seen him actually mattered.

“I was wondering if I could be of assistance,” Merlin asked in the same clipped tone as before, but this time without the sarcasm.

“Can't you see we're talking?” Vivian snapped, giving Merlin a heated glare. “Just go and fetch me some more water.”

Merlin's mouth opened in a shocked and angry expression, he looked ready to give a snappy retort, but Vivian had already turned away, placing a hand possessively on Arthur's arm.

Arthur saw Merlin's expression fall fleetingly to one of hurt before he turned away to go and fetch the water.

“Now, where were we?” she simpered.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Your father thinks I'm delightful,” he said, his voice a flat monotone.

Vivian seemed to realise suddenly that she'd overstepped the mark and, in looking up, found the rest of the table looking at her all with similar expressions of distaste on their faces.

Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Vivian pushed her meal – still untouched – away and got to her feet.

“I'm tired, I think I'll head to bed,” she announced and without much further ado, flounced off.

When Merlin returned, bottle of water in hand, he looked confused at Vivian's empty seat.

“Ah, Merlin,” Mithian said, jumping in to alleviate the awkward pause. “Some water would be lovely, thank you.”

Merlin blinked and moved to serve her. As he leant over to fill her glass, Arthur saw Mithian and Morgana exchange a grin and he felt a serious sense of foreboding.

“We were just saying what an excellent job you're doing tonight,” Mithian said, smiling brightly as Merlin stood up again. “And we all, Arthur especially,” she added, giving Arthur a pointed look, “wanted to apologise for the fuss last night.”

Merlin went bright red and spluttered for a moment. “Honestly, it was my fault, you don't--”

“Yes,” Morgana jumped in. “Arthur was very serious about wanting to apologise. In person.”

Merlin's gaze met Arthur's, something indescribable in his features.

Arthur coughed. “Yes, I'm very sorry.” He tried not to wince as Morgana stepped, _hard_ , on his foot under the table. “Merlin, it wasn't your fault and I apologise for any inconvenience it caused you.”

Merlin, absurdly, looked like he was about to start laughing, but he seemed to catch himself and, schooling his expression, nodded his thanks.

“If you'll allow me, ladies and gentlemen, I need to serve the other tables.”

Once Merlin had gone, Arthur turned his gaze on Morgana and Mithian, looking suitably unimpressed with the whole little debacle they'd just caused.

“What was that?” he asked.

The two women shared a secretive smile which made Arthur turn to Leon. Leon shrugged helplessly.

“I'd say they're planning something, but I guess that's obvious,” he said.

“Look,” Arthur said bluntly, “I didn't bring you on this cruise to be my personal match-making service …” He trailed off, as across the table Morgana's eyes went wide at something behind him.

He turned in his seat, already knowing, before he even saw the man, that Merlin had heard that too.

Dessert was perhaps a little easier to handle, especially once his face had stopped its impression of a traffic cone and the embarrassment had faded at little.

He was mainly concerned with the fact he was close to collapsing with laughter over the idea that someone like Arthur would be interested in him. Then again, Gwaine had been interested, and miracles did happen, but from the expression on Arthur's face when he realised Merlin had heard, suggested it would have to be a pretty big miracle.

That and the fact that Arthur Pendragon was a prat, which Merlin forced himself to remember, even in the crazy moment when Merlin nearly knocked a water glass over and both he and Arthur reached out to stop it, their hands brushing against one another for the briefest of moments.

 _For goodness sakes, Merlin. You're not living in a romantic movie_. That was Will, in his head, bringing Merlin back to reality with a bump.

Through serving dessert, once the talk had moved on from Arthur's dating life, he was able to listen in on conversation he guessed he probably shouldn't be hearing, but that he hovered around to listen to anyway.

“So Cenred's on the ship?” Morgana asked, and Merlin was surprised to see her hand shaking a little as she took a spoonful of chocolate mousse.

“I wasn't going to tell you,” Arthur sighed. “Mithian wasn't meant to spill the beans.”

“This isn't a stupid secret, Arthur,” Leon said, his voice lowering and his tone becoming serious. “He could be dangerous.”

Arthur scowled and prodded angrily at his apple tart. “I don't want a fuss,” he said firmly. “I don't want to show him I'm …” he bit his lip for a moment. “Worried.”

“You and your stupid pride.” Morgana put her cutlery down with a thump.

“Exactly what I was trying to say this afternoon.” Mithian spread her hands.

“And what would I say?” Arthur asked. “Who would I talk to? We have no proof that he did anything or will do anything!”

Merlin moved closer to listen more carefully, under the pretence of refilling Leon's glass with water.

“No,” Arthur held up a hand to cut off whatever Morgana had been about to say, “my best option is just to avoid him.”

“We're on a boat, Arthur,” Leon pointed out, grimly. “You can only run so far.”

Arthur shook his head, putting his cutlery together on his plate and getting up, signalling an end to the conversation.

“Just leave it, ok?” he said. “I've got it covered.”

He briefly looked up and met Merlin's gaze, probably knowing that Merlin had heard the whole thing, but he didn't say anything, instead he left quickly and with a rigidity to his posture which showed exactly what he was feeling.

The others at the table noticed Merlin then, and he hurried away, not wanting to be accused of eavesdropping.

The others left soon after Arthur had gone and it wasn't long after that Merlin ended up back in his cabin. Gwaine had invited him to a party in the crew bar, but Merlin had turned him down, not really feeling in the mood.

He was feeling an odd surge of protectiveness towards Arthur, he realised as he lay on his bunk, staring up at the dark ceiling. Something that wanted to keep him from harm. He felt he needed to find out more about Cenred and whatever he might have done to Arthur, but then he scowled.

Arthur Pendragon was just some rich, upperclass prat who had strange secrets.

And – as if Merlin of all people needed reminding – everyone had their secrets.

 

 


	3. Day Three

Merlin was up on deck soon after breakfast service was over the next morning. A light breeze rippled across the sea and blew his hair back off his face. He leaned on the rail, fascinated as always by the rise and fall of the ocean, and watched with anticipation as the land grew steadily nearer.

They were stopping in a small seaside town whose population almost doubled whenever a cruise ship came in. Merlin hadn't heard much about it, but if the fact that numerous cruise ships stopped there was anything to go by, it was worth a visit.

Only a few of the wait staff were needed for lunch on board as most of the travellers would disembark for the day. He thought he might go and look around with Gwen and Gwaine, and Lancelot, whom Gwen had introduced him to before dinner the previous evening.

The decks become increasingly crowded as they drew nearer land and so Merlin slipped below deck, hoping he might find Gwaine in the bar. He pushed through the 'crew only' door, heading for the stairs, when he ran headlong into the strange man he'd met when leaving the crew bar the previous day. The collision made Merlin stumble and he teetered dangerously on the top of the stairs. Without thinking, he let his magic swirl up to steady himself, his eyes glowing gold for a fraction of a section. When he found his balance, he quickly swivelled, hoping to head downstairs and that the man might not have seen. A vice like grip on his forearm, stopped him short.

“I knew it!” The man's voice was smooth and rich, steady but for the glimmer of strange excitement which infected his tone.

Merlin tried to pull back, but the man only tightened his grasp, crowding Merlin back up against the wall.

“I could sense it before when I saw you.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment. “Magic.”

Merlin swallowed hard, trying to extricate his arm.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, a violent mix of emotions awaking in him. Partly he was amazed, that there was someone else with magic and that Merlin had met them. The other half of him was telling him to run as fast as he could and get away from the man.

The man laughed. “Come on, don't play dumb. We both know it's real, no point trying to hide it.”

“Let -- let go of me,” Merlin said, thinking in panic of where this conversation could lead.

The man tilted his head, curious. “You're afraid of it? Why? You've got so much power!”

“Get off me!” Merlin pushed out, shoving the man in the chest hard. He stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on Merlin who wrenched his arm free and, darting out of the man's reach, tried to hurry down the stairs.

He was only a few stairs down, however, when he felt magic, foreign and cloying, swirl up around him and stop him short.

“And what if I do this?” Then man moved down the steps to stand behind him. “You untrained, untested. You have no idea of the power you wield.”

Merlin was struggling helplessly against the invisible bonds, his eyes flashing gold as he tried to get his magic to do _something_.

“Let me teach you,” the man said, his tone earnest, but Merlin couldn't see his face and couldn't possible gauge what he really meant. “I can show you great things--”

“Merlin!”

Merlin had never been so pleased to see someone in his life as Gwaine rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and hopped up to meet him. The magic holding him in place vanished in an instant and the man turned around, heading up the stairs.

“I'll see you around, _Merlin_.” And with that wholly threatening farewell, he was gone.

Merlin had to hide his gasp of relief and instead brought a shaky smile to his face as Gwaine joined him.

“You ok?” Gwaine asked, his eyes flicking from Merlin to the door behind him through which the man had gone. “You look pale.”

“I always look pale,” Merlin joked, surprised how easily the lie came, and wondering a little why he wasn't explaining what had happened to Gwaine.

Ah, yes. Magic.

“Do you … do you know that man's name?” He couldn't completely hide his worry, and he needed to know the name, then he might be able to do something.

“Edwin,” Gwaine said. “We work together. Why--”

“Wait, you actually do work?” Merlin asked, cutting off Gwaine's curious question.

“I'm a man of many talents, Merls,” Gwaine said, an easy grin in place.

“Are you free this afternoon, I was hoping to find someone to head into town with,” Merlin said.

Gwaine looked downcast.

“Sorry, I'm working the bar.”

“Oh. Oh, that's alright. I'll see if Gwen and Lance are available.”

“Yeah, sorry mate. Have a good time though. And …” Gwaine hesitated, his gaze once again on the door behind Merlin. “Are you sure--”

“Yeah, fine!” Merlin knew he was overly cheery, knew his smile was overly wide, but Gwaine seemed to accept it and clapping Merlin on the shoulder, headed off up the stairs.

* * *

By the time the ship had docked, Merlin still hadn't found Gwen and Lance, and it was a little while after that he discovered they had gone on ahead. Finding no one else available, Merlin disembarked alone and wandered through the port until he found one of the shuttles that would get him in to town.

It was bright sunshine, but there was a colder touch to the air, a hint of the summer almost over. The town was still lively and bustling with holiday makers and tourists, and was filled coffee shops and cafes, restaurants and bars, and a shopping centre which welcomed in the tourists with various bits of holiday memorabilia. Between the port and the town centre, a long park stretched, and it was in that direction that Merlin headed, hoping to get away from the noise of town.

Not long after midday, he found a patch of woodland on the edge of the park and sat on a bench in the sun there. He'd seen a few people he recognised from the cruise, but none of the staff he was close to.

He found himself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the warmth of the sun, and his eyes were just closing when something started him awake.

“It's too good an opportunity to miss.” A man's voice, gruff and low sounded from the trees behind Merlin.

“There's no way we'd get away with it!” The second voice made Merlin tense all over, it was Edwin, from the cruise.

“Pendragon hasn't raised the alarm yet, so he won't. All we have to do is make it seem like an accident--”

“His family won't be fooled, they know what you did to his mother, and Mordred--”

“Was a fool. Come on, Edwin, do you really think so little of me that I'd let myself be implicated in any way?”

There was a pause and Merlin could hear someone shuffling where they stood.

“With a little help from you,” the first man was speaking again, “and your particular talents, this will come off very easily. And surely you want revenge too? After everything Uther did to your parents--”

“All right, Cenred! I'll do it.”

“I'll be in touch.”

Merlin heard footsteps moving away, presumably Cenred's, and decided it was time for him to move himself. If Edwin found him--

“Merlin!”

It was none other than Arthur Pendragon, and the sound of his voice surprised Merlin so much he spun around too sharply and promptly toppled off the bench.

Sunlight haloed Arthur's head where he stood, an eyebrow raised and a smirk quirking his lips.

“Still as clumsy as ever I see.”

Merlin scowled and got to his feet, brushing himself off. He refrained from looking back into the trees, and wondered if Edwin had heard Arthur.

Little did Arthur know he had just involved Merlin in a murder attempt. Great.

“You surprised me, and the last time was an accident as you full well know,” he grumbled.

“Fair. And … well,” Arthur trailed off, looking a little uncomfortable.

“What?”

“I guess I should apologise properly. I could have lost you your job.”

Merlin gaped for a moment, feeling genuinely a little lost.

“Of course you should accept that as a compliment, I'm told I'm one of the worst people in the world at apologising, so you must be pretty special.”

Merlin paused for a moment longer before a grin worked its way onto his face.

“Did you just call me special?”

Maybe he bumped his head when he fell off the bench because he was fairly certain Arthur was blushing.

“A 'dropping things, falling over an unreasonable amount of times, and having large ears' kind of special,” Arthur said, scowling a little, as if he'd been caught out.

“You're a prat you know that?” Merlin said, feeling more than a little hurt – his ears were a bit of a sore point.

“Morgana never fails to remind me.” Arthur smirked.

“And is probably the reason why she seems to have abandoned you,” Merlin said.

“Oh no, that was me escaping from a shopping trip. Leon was foolish enough to agree to go, but I've seen Morgana and Mithian shopping and it's not a pretty sight.”

“Are they …?” Merlin paused not sure how to phrase the question. “Friends?”

“Morgana's my half-sister. Mithian's been my friend since childhood, and apart from a dire few months when our fathers tried to get us to marry each other, she's my closest friend. Leon and I work together.”

“Oh.”

“And you?”

“And me what?”

“Do you have friends?” Arthur raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Er … yes.” Merlin couldn't help but feel like he was being interrogated for something.

“And they've abandoned you?”

“I guess so. I was just enjoying being by myself though,” Merlin retorted.

“Excellent, let's find some lunch.”

Arthur turned on his heel, clearly assuming Merlin was going to follow.

It took Merlin a brief moment for his brain to catch up before he was hurrying after Arthur.

“Who says I want to find lunch with you?” he asked.

“You don't have a choice. Anyway, see it as an apology.”

“Right.”

They left the park, and headed through town and Merlin, so lost in confusion about how he had ended up sharing lunch with Arthur Pendragon, completely forgot about Cenred until much later.

Arthur decided he must be out of his mind.

It was probably a side effect of spending too much time with Morgana, and this brand new side of him, being recklessly impulsive, was beginning to worry him.

Why he'd asked Merlin to lunch – and he was sure Morgana would point out it looked very much like a date – he wasn't really sure, and for goodness sakes he'd only know the man two days.

And what a very memorable two days they'd been.

“So...” Merlin fell into step beside him, his hands stuffed awkwardly into pockets and his eyes on pretty much everything but Arthur. “Where d'you want to get lunch?”

“There was a brochure on the cruise, said something about a good pizza place,” Arthur replied and he side-eyed Merlin somewhat anxiously. “If that's ok with you?”

“Pizza sounds good,” Merlin responded, quirking a shy grin and Arthur would forever deny the fact his heart fluttered a little at that.

They walked along the sunny pavements, swerving around tourists and the locals.

“So.” Merlin coughed. “Do you often take waiters out for pizza or am I just special?”

“Do you often spill wine on your customers or am I just special?” Arthur responded and watched a blush rose up in Merlin's cheeks.

“That was an accident,” he pointed out.

“As you won't cease telling me, still, it did just have to be me, didn't it?” Arthur snorted.

“That's because secretly I knew you were a prat.” Merlin looked incredibly proud of himself at that.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and hummed a response. There was something about Merlin that really just took the words right out of his mouth.

The pizzeria was good and Arthur had a half-hearted argument with Merlin over Hawaiian or sun-dried tomato and cheese – which was really for his own benefit as he really liked watching Merlin pout – and in the end they settled for half and half.

They settled down to eat, Merlin recounting some of his stories about life onboard the cruise which mainly involved tales about sharing a room with Gilli, teasing George about polishing, or some man called Gwaine who was apparently good-looking, charming and funny all in one go. Arthur decided he didn't like him.

“So what are you planning on doing after this cruise?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. “Go on another? I mean, it's great living with my friend Will, but I like being on the move.”

“That must be fun,” Arthur said.

“What?”

“Being on the move, not tied down to anything. It sounds … good.” Wistfully, he wished the same for himself.

“What about you?” Merlin asked. “What are you going back to after you've got bored of living the high life on a cruise?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin's cheek, but then shrugged. “Work.”

“Sounds exciting,” Merlin replied dryly.

“Anything but. To be honest, more than once I've debated chucking it all and just leaving. Going … somewhere.”

“Why don't you?”

Arthur sighed and prodded at his last piece of pizza.

“My father. And … I don't know. I don't know where I'd go, what I'd do.” It was a startling realisation of the fact he didn't really know who he was outside of work.

“You won't know until you leave,” Merlin said. Then he caught himself. “Sorry. Ignore me. It's your life, your choice.”

“No … you're right.” Arthur scowled at himself slightly.

There didn't seem to be much to say after that. Arthur found himself increasingly wound up in his thoughts.

Merlin brought him spectacularly out of his reverie a little later, however. They had left the pizzeria, bought ice creams and were heading back in the direction of the port. In an impressive display of incompetence, Merlin tripped, flailed and wobbled dangerously close to the road and Arthur was forced to save him from getting run over and throwing his ice cream everywhere (namely on Arthur) – which, in both cases, would have resulted in dire consequences.

He ended up with Merlin in his arms, conscious of Merlin's breath on his cheek and the shy smile on his lips.

“You are completely incompetent, Merlin, did no one ever tell you?” Arthur knew his arm was around Merlin, but wasn't about to move any time soon.

“Well at least I've got a prat like you to save me,” Merlin chuckled.

A car tooted angrily and they jumped apart, getting off the road.

Arthur didn't miss the beaming smile on Merlin's face, though, and his heart soared.

“Ah, so you must be Merlin.”

The voice behind him made Merlin jump in surprise, and as he turned he found himself crowded up against the wall of the corridor. He and Arthur had headed back to the cruise together, parting only when they reached it, in a display of awkwardness because neither of them really wanted to say goodbye.

The speaker was a man, taller than Merlin, broad shouldered and muscular, with dark hair that hung limply around his face. He smiled, something which might have passed for charming had his breath not been hot in Merlin's face, and Merlin felt a rush of cold foreboding.

“Edwin was telling me you overheard our little chat earlier.”

Ah, so this must be Cenred.

Merlin tried to straighten up, not liking the way Cenred was trying to dwarf him, but found it only made Cenred lean closer.

“I've no idea what you're talking about.” His voice came out without a wobble, and he even managed to look Cenred in the eye as he did so, his jaw firm, his eyes defiant.

Cenred laughed, his chilling smile still in place.

“Come now, didn't mummy tell you it's rude to tell lies?”

Merlin swallowed hesitantly, unsettled by the mention of his mother. Surely Cenred couldn't--

“Yes, it's surprising how much information one can find when you're really looking. I had a delightful read on your mother – Hunith, was it? - and your friend, Will.”

Merlin had to clamp his jaw tight shut, to stop himself from speaking out. Fear hit him like a cold wave. This was the man who was planning to kill Arthur, who might have killed other people from what Arthur had said that afternoon, and now he knew about Merlin's mother and Will.

“So,” Cenred was less than an inch away now, his smile gone, eyes narrowed. “Whatever you may have heard, whatever Pendragon may have said to you, whatever you may have planned, you're going to forget it all – understood?”

Merlin averted his eyes from Cenred, and felt another stab of fear as he spotted Edwin further down the corridor.

He felt cornered, trapped, and all of a sudden his breath felt like it was sticking in his throat.

“I won't let you hurt her.” He ground out, eyes flashing with anger.

Cenred looked, for the briefest moment, afraid. He backed off a little and glanced over to Edwin. Edwin straightened up, walking closer.

“You've already seen some of what I can do,” Edwin said, gold tinging his irises as he took Cenred's place in front of Merlin. “Don't get it into your head that this is a fight you can win.”

A surge of protective anger had Merlin standing up straighter, his chin lifting.

Cenred had most likely murdered Arthur's mother, Merlin wasn't about to let the same happen to his own.

“I won't let you threaten the people I care about,” he said, and somehow he realised he had included Arthur within that statement.

It happened very quickly. Merlin felt a wave of Edwin's magic surround him and in the same moment Cenred stepped forward, seizing one of Merlin's wrists and twisting it up behind his back.

“You seem to think you have power here,” Cenred growled, kicking Merlin's legs out from under him and pressing down on his wrist, sending spikes of pain shooting up his arm. Unable to fight back as Edwin's magic held him in place, Merlin couldn't help the whine of pain that escaped him. “Well let me set the matter straight. Whatever ideas you have, whatever magic you think is at your disposal, it only takes a thought on Edwin's part and my people are ready to act. Believe me, you won't enjoy the consequences.”

Cenred tightened his hold for a beat longer, then released Merlin. Edwin's magic dissipated at the same time.

“Have I made myself clear?” Cenred asked.

Cradling his injured arm to his chest, Merlin nodded.

“Excellent.” The smile was back in place as Cenred stood tall once more, smirking down at where Merlin was huddled against the wall. “Well I hope you enjoy your cruise, Merlin.”

With that parting remark, both Edwin and Cenred turned and left, leaving Merlin to struggle up from the floor, bracing himself against the wall with his uninjured arm.

He rubbed a hand across his face and bit his lip. A mix of feeling the need to act and the fear of what the outcome might be if he did welled up inside him and it took him several moments before his thoughts were coherent enough for him to realise his wrist was burning with pain and he needed to see a medic. His stomach turned as he grasped the fact he wouldn't be able to serve dinner that night, and who knew what Cenred might do to Arthur … Not that Merlin could warn him. Cenred's threats echoed loudly in his ears.

He had no idea what to do.

Dinner that night was a rather subdued affair to Arthur after the relative high he'd come off after lunch. He'd found himself grinning all the way back to his room after saying goodbye and feeling more elated and alive than he had in a long time.

He'd checked his phone, being in signal for the brief time at port had brought a barrage of texts, emails, and missed calls. Most were from his father and he discarded them all. Folding his arms across his chest defensively he went to the window. The sunlight gleamed on the water, and just inland from the port, he could see the slope of the park where he had met Merlin earlier that day. After a beat, he let go of the breath he had been holding and tossed his phone to one side.

By the time he got to dinner, Morgana had caught up with him, demanding to know where he had been all day. Arthur avoided the question, not quite sure what she would do if he were to tell her he'd spent lunch with Merlin of all people.

She then proceeded to give him a full rundown of what she and Mithian had bought, and what Leon had said. Arthur was only really half paying attention – although he did notice the startlingly large amount of times she mentioned Leon and decided to ask her about it later – his mind, however, was mainly taken up with thoughts of Merlin.

He tumbled from his euphoric wave when they arrived at dinner to find not Merlin, but George serving out the drinks.

“Where's Merlin?” he asked George sharply, ignoring the knowing look he got from Morgana, and wondering if the late hour he and Merlin had got back had got him into trouble.

“Mr. Emrys, took a fall this afternoon and has sprained his wrist,” George said, filling Arthur's glass, with swift efficiency and precision. “He apologises sincerely that he would not be able to be here.”

Arthur frowned. He wondered why Merlin hadn't come to see him …

He shook his head, marvelling at his own feelings because they'd only known each other for three days. And yet there was something about Merlin, that drew Arthur to him, like he'd never been to anyone before.

“How was your day, Arthur?” Leon asked as he joined them, momentarily looking confused at the presence of George, but let it pass.

“Good,” Arthur responded. “I found a great pizzeria in town.”

“Must have been a little lonely,” Morgana quizzed, looking like a cat about to dig her claws in something exciting. “Are you sure you--”

“I quite enjoyed my time, actually. And anyway, I'm intelligent enough to avoid anything that combines you and shopping. Leon, I'm proud of you for still being on your feet.”

Morgana whacked him on the arm.

“What are you hiding?” she demanded.

Arthur smirked and took a drink, taking the chance to look around the room in the vague hope that Merlin might have magically turned up.

“If Arthur wants to keep something … or someone hidden, then that's entirely up to him,” Mithian said, her eyes sparkling with a smile.

“Thank you, Mithian,” Arthur said, politely inclining his head.

“I'm very happy for you, Arthur,” she replied.

Arthur spluttered over his drink.

“Oh, it's nothing like that,” he insisted. “We've only known each other for a minute!”

“Oh, it's exactly like that,” Morgana replied, taking up the menu to avoid Arthur's glare.

Leon looked between the two women and shrugged.

* * *

Thankfully that night, Vivian Kensington was a couple of seats away from him, and Arthur was blissfully able to ignore her, no matter how hard she tried to get his attention.

Next to him, Morgana eventually moved on with the conversation after Arthur had made it clear he wasn't going to talk about Merlin – and no, there wasn't any point in secrecy because the whole table appeared to have come to that conclusion anyway, without Arthur actually saying it.

“You wouldn't believe the amount of emails I've had from father telling me to update you on the business,” she sighed.

“Probably a lot less than the amount I've had from him,” Arthur replied, trying not to take out his aggression on the steak in front of him, and instead act a little more civilised.

“I told him,” Morgana continued, “as I've told him a hundred times before, that you're on holiday and he needs to leave you alone.”

“You know this is father though,” Arthur replied. “He's not going to listen.”

“No, I guess not.”

Arthur slouched a little in his seat and chased peas idly round his plate.

“I thought …” He started, then stopped again, uncertain if he was really ready to say it. “I thought I might resign. Start up my own company. Get him out of my life.”

He didn't look at Morgana and finished off the last of his meal.

When he felt brave enough to meet her gaze, she was smiling.

“Finally.”

“That's good news, Arthur,” Leon said, his smile bolstering Arthur's confidence.

“It'll be good for you,” Mithian added. “It's what's best.”

Arthur nodded, staring at his food without really seeing it and realising it felt like he could breathe again.


	4. Day Four

It was just past midday and Merlin was sitting up on the deck by the pool.

It was less bright than the previous day, clouds scudding across the sun and a cooler breeze, but the pool was still crowded.

The medic on board had given him a wrist support, but after a while the swelling had gone down and he was determined to help again with dinner that night. He needed to stay by Arthur, he had decided. If he could do anything to keep the man safe, he needed to.

“Merlin!”

The voice of the very man he had been thinking about startled him. He jumped, turning to find Arthur standing a short way behind him in his swimming things.

“Oh, so you actually are injured,” he continued, dropping down in a seat next to Merlin and indicating his strapped up wrist. “I thought for a moment last night that you were avoiding me.”

Merlin gave a bit of a hollow laugh, resisting the urge to look around and check if Cenred or Edwin were nearby.

“Oh, you know me. Clumsy as ever.”

If Arthur noticed anything off in Merlin's voice, he didn't mention it, just dropped his towel on the chair next to Merlin and got up, stretching lightly as he headed towards the pool.

“Look after my stuff will you?” he asked with a grin.

“What did your last slave die of?” Merlin grumbled, but there was no heat in it.

Arthur winked – and Merlin's heart fluttered embarrassingly – and dived in.

Merlin watched him for a while, trying not to stare as Arthur ploughed his way up and down the pool, muscles rippling under his skin. After a time, though, he leaned back, closing his eyes against the sun and drifting off to sleep a little.

He was jerked awake by someone flicking water at him and sat up to find Arthur standing over him, grinning smugly and haloed so perfectly in sunlight it was as if the sun had chosen that very moment to appear from behind the clouds.

“Lazy,” Arthur said, dropping down onto the chair next to Merlin once more.

“Prat,” Merlin huffed in response.

“So, are you going to be serving this evening or are we actually going to have someone competent again tonight?”

Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“I don't have to talk to you, you know,” he said, punching Arthur on the arm and trying not to hesitate too long with the feel of Arthur's skin under his own. “I have friends.”

Arthur laughed, and at that point Merlin's magic felt like doing something just to wipe the smile off Arthur's face, but a shadow that fell across the pair had him looking up.

For Arthur, the last person he wanted to see in that moment was Vivian, who had chosen that moment to come and lean on the back of Arthur's chair, her hands falling forward to trail lightly over his bare shoulder.

“I was hoping to see you out here,” she said, turning so she came between Merlin and Arthur.

Arthur coughed and moved away from her touch, indicating Merlin.

“Vivian, I don't believe you've met Merlin--”

“Yes, lovely.” Vivian replied, without even turning.

She was dressed in a simple white bikini, with a loose patterned shift over the top which was see through, and floated around her in the breeze.

Arthur had to admit, she looked stunning, but he was rapidly growing impatient with her.

“I didn't get to talk to you at dinner properly last night,” Vivian said, settling down next to Arthur on his chair, completely ignoring any general conventions of personal space.

“I had other things on my mind,” Arthur responded.

“A shame,” Vivian purred and leant on Arthur's shoulder. “I had such a lovely time with you the other night-” Arthur had to suppress a snort. “-and I really think we should get to know each other better.”

“Yes, of course,” Arthur replied, still trying to be polite as he shifted forward. “But if you hadn't noticed I was ...” He trailed off, because Merlin was gone.

He sat up abruptly, dislodging a disgruntled Vivian and looking around, his heart sinking because surely Merlin hadn't thought …

He sighed, dropping back into his seat when he found no sign of the man. Regretfully, he turned over his conversations with Merlin and rubbed a hand over his eyes when he realised he had never said … Merlin didn't know he was gay.

Neither did Vivian, and she chose that exact moment to remind him, leaning in even closer which made Arthur shoot out of his seat.

“I'm sorry, Vivian,” he said, cursing himself for letting Vivian get this far and for not telling Merlin.

In the same moment, he realised just how much he cared what Merlin thought.

What was he doing? He didn't even know if Merlin liked men and if he did, what must have that scene looked like between him and Vivian?

“It's just, I'm really not interested.” He gave his best disarming smile, and turned before he had a chance to see her face crumple.

* * *

He wandered the decks for a while, hoping that he might chance upon Merlin, but it seemed the man didn't want to be found.

Thoughts trickled through his mind of just how ridiculous this was. Just how much could one man affect him? And he couldn't even pinpoint what it was about Merlin, what it was that made Arthur feel drawn to him, wanted to open up to him.

_You've only know him three days, Pendragon. Get a grip._

But no matter how many times Arthur said that to himself – and in a voice that sounded increasingly like his father's – he eventually found himself admitting that he didn't want to push Merlin away.

Whatever they had, he wanted it, wanted more.

His mood soured even more as, rounding a corner, he came upon Cenred and another man, deep in conversation.

They both looked up at his approach, Cenred's eyes glittering with a look that made Arthur just know that all his suspicions about Cenred were true. But he had no proof.

The man with him, a nasty scar down the side of his face, looked Arthur up and down, the smallest of smirks curling his lip.

Arthur felt chills running down his spine, but he carried on walking and resolved to not seem cowed. Cenred stepped out, however, and Arthur collided with him roughly. Knocked back, he felt a strange tingling sensation run down his back, but as he took a step away, it vanished.

“Excuse me,” Cenred said. His eyes were narrowed in a challenge which Arthur fought not to rise to.

“You're excused.” Arthur sidestepped him, walking on and was surprised when Cenred did nothing to impede him.

Granted, the man was most likely insane, but Arthur couldn't help but think that something more had just happened back there that he wasn't aware of. He fought the urge not to look back, to see what Cenred was doing, and instead, rolled his shoulders – a strange itch had settled between his shoulderblades that he couldn't shrug off – and carried on walking.

* * *

As the afternoon passed, even the weather began to match his mood. Clouds rolled in and the heavens opened in nothing short of a downpour that had people miserably retreating indoors for some other activity to pass the time.

Arthur settled for a short while in the bar with Mithian, Morgana and Leon, but felt he couldn't find any energy to take part in their conversation, and no matter how much Morgana grilled him on what exactly was wrong, he didn't open up.

It wasn't just that Merlin had left because of Vivian. That was something easily explained and mended – it was the fact that Merlin leaving had made Arthur realise just how much he wanted him near. It was ridiculous – crazy – but Arthur had found enjoyment in Merlin's company like he hadn't in any other's for a long time, and there was just something about him that Arthur couldn't put his finger on, and just left him yearning to know what it was.

The idea of explaining all that to Morgana was laughable, and so after a good half an hour of narrowed stares and pointed questions, he excused himself and went for a walk again.

The rain had come with wind and the swell had got up. Arthur noticed more than one slightly green face. The liner was so huge that the swell wasn't really noticeable but Arthur felt unsteady. He felt like he needed some air, however, the rain was coming down in sheets now. He walked to one of the doors that led out on deck, peering out through the rain and leaning his head against the cool glass for a moment.

Then he blinked. Someone was out there.

Merlin was out there.

He pushed open the door, hit by a sudden blast of cold air and rain. Ahead of him, Merlin was stood at the railing, leaning forward with his elbows on the bar. His shoulders were hunched over and he was soaked to the skin.

“What are you doing!”

Merlin jerked at Arthur's voice and turned towards him.

“Thinking.”

“In the rain?”

Merlin shrugged.

“I needed some time alone,” he responded, and there was something in his tone that was both accusatory and broken at the same time.

“Merlin … I--”

“No.” Merlin cut him off. “I know. I was stupid. I just … didn't realise how much I …” He didn't seem able to finish.

“I don't like Vivian.” Arthur jumped in. Knowing if he didn't say this now he might let Merlin slip on and out of his grasp. “I don't like girls in general. Well … not in that way, of course I know some wonderful women just not ones I …” He fell quiet at the look on Merlin's face.

“Are you--?”

“What I'm trying to say is--”

“Do you like me?” Merlin blurted it out and then looked horrified he'd actually had the guts to say it.

Arthur chuckled, a smile breaking out on both their faces. “So much more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin ducked his gaze shyly.

“I didn't think you … I thought you might not.”

Arthur reached out and hesitantly slipped his hand into Merlin's.

“There's something special about you, Merlin. I think, I know, I want to be with you. After the cruise. I'm leaving my job. How about we go and explore the world together?”

Partly, it seemed too fast, too crazy to conceive this was actually happening. But at the same time, it felt right.

Merlin's grip tightened within Arthur's.

“I think I might like that,” he said.

Arthur found his attention distracted by Merlin's lips, the way he licked them nervously and how his gaze went to Arthur's.

They were both leaning forward when--

“Look out!”

Merlin's shout was wild just as Arthur felt something powerful jerk him hard, backwards and towards the railing of the boat. Then, impossibly, because there was nothing behind him, he was being lifted upwards and dragged over the railing.

His mind was free-falling in panic and confusion until he felt Merlin's hand once again in his own, grounding, strong and safe.

Then he looked at Merlin's eyes.

They were burning bright, bright gold with fire and the sight sent shivers down Arthur's spine and an incredible thrill in his gut.

Then he was tumbling forward, back onto the boat and into Merlin's arms.

“Are you ok? Arthur? Arthur! Are you ok?” Merlin's panicked voice cut through the confusion in his mind and he focused enough to realise he was safe on deck again and the gold had faded from Merlin's eyes.

“What the hell was that?”  

Merlin realised there were probably better ways to reveal the existence of magic to someone than a murder attempt which involved throwing them over the side of a boat.

He wasn't quite sure how Arthur was taking it, but he seemed calm … ish.

They'd gone back to Arthur's rooms, the chill of Merlin's wet clothes beginning to sink in after the shock and adrenaline had worn off, and Arthur had chucked a blanket at him. He'd proceeded to pace the room agitatedly, his face set in a stony expressions whilst Merlin tried to explain that magic was real.

It wasn't easy.

“But it's just something out of a fairytale!” Arthur protested, hands on hips and his face caught in hopeful denial that perhaps it would all just go away.

Merlin thinned his lips and twisted his fingers together. Then, he held out his hand.

“Forbærnan.” A flickering, yellow flame appeared in his hand and Arthur stopped in his pacing to stare.

He blinked and then crossed the room to sit next to Merlin on the bed. He blew out a breath and was silent.

Merlin let the fire fade and then tentatively reached out to put his hand over Arthur's.

“It's real. And the man Cenred's got, he's called Edwin, he's got magic. He's powerful and he tried to kill you, Arthur.”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

“I don't believe this,” he said, fatigue lacing his tone. “Cenred trying to kill me, I could handle, but some other man trying to kill me with magic which I can't stop and I can't get away from--” He blinked and then turned to Merlin, a new expression coming over his face.

“You saved me.”

“Oh I … I wasn't really sure what happened. I--” In all honesty, Merlin wasn't sure what he'd done when Edwin had tried to throw Arthur overboard, his magic had acted of its own accord.

“You saved my life.”

Their eyes met in a moment of something true and real, and it took Merlin's breath away.

Arthur leant in and his lips were gentle against Merlin's for a moment before Merlin really comprehended what was going on and he pushed back, hand rising to cup the back of Arthur's head.

His magic sparked and burned low in his gut and a warmth spread through him. Arthur dived in, tongue sliding along Merlin's lips and his hands wrapping round Merlin, pulling him close.

They were interrupted by the frantic beeping of Merlin's phone against his hip and he sagged, the moment evaporating between them.

“I have to go,” he sighed.

“Doesn't matter,” Arthur replied, hands working their way through Merlin's hair and trying to carry on.

“Arthur. Arthur!” Merlin pushed him away, smiling wryly at Arthur's pout. “I have to get ready for dinner. Wouldn't do for you to lose me my job for real this time would it?”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “I'll see you soon then?”

“I'll see you soon,” Merlin promised, squeezing Arthur's hands before getting off the bed and heading for the door.

* * *

Merlin had been distracted by a seasick Gilli, and having to help out with extra tables, so he didn't reach Arthur's table to serve until fairly late.

The first thing he noticed was Arthur's empty table.

“He was acting odd earlier,” Mithian was saying. “He probably just wants some time alone.”

“I think something else distracted him,” Morgana replied, giving Merlin an eyebrow and a rather meaningful look for Merlin's liking.

He flushed a little.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen--” he began, but then he felt a brief tingling sensation down his spine and he stopped short.

Spinning around, he met Edwin's eyes across the room almost instantly. Edwin smirked and then turned and left.

Dread settled in Merlin's stomach and he was frozen to the spot with worry before the sound of a glass smashing drew his attention.

Morgana was staring into space and she had gone deathly pale. Her hand was shaking, still hovering in mid-air where a moment before it had been holding the glass.

Leon, sat beside her, was shaking her shoulder gently.

“Morgana. Morgana? Are you ok?”

All of a sudden, Morgana blinked and seemed to shake herself out of whatever she had seen.

And Merlin knew she had seen something – he'd been around Gaius long enough to know about Seers.

“What is it?” he asked quickly, his heart beating rapidly and panic building.

She shook her head, white-lipped and looking terrified.

“Was it Arthur?” Merlin pressed.

Morgana nodded and Merlin took off running at a sprint.

It had been a long, confusing day for Arthur.

Magic. Magic was real.

And Merlin. Arthur was still elated from the kiss. He decided to change and get to dinner early if only to spend more time with Merlin.

He was busy washing in the bathroom, so didn't hear the door to his room open. He didn't even notice anything out of the ordinary back in his room until he was tackled from behind. He hit the floor with a thud, cushioned by the soft carpet, and tried to fight back. His opponent had had the element of surprise and horribly efficient in wrestling Arthur's wrists behind his back and securing them there with a rough cord.

Arthur's next instinct was to shout for help, but his attacker was quick to gag him and only when it felt like they'd checked Arthur was secure, did they step back.

Arthur rolled over, trying to get his legs under him and get some control in the situation, but a boot on his lower back kept him still.

“Really, Pendragon, is this how you greet an old friend?” Cenred's tone was mocking and it was only when he kicked Arthur over onto his back that Arthur could see the cold smile on Cenred's face.

He lay still, hating being defenceless, but wanting to take stock of the situation before he acted. He and Cenred were the only ones in the room and the door was shut. He doubted anyone would have heard the struggle.

“You look so much like your mother,” Cenred said darkly. “She put up a fight, too. It's a shame Uther didn't learn his lesson and just carried on getting in my way. Anyway, I'm sure your death will make him see reason.”

Cenred's words were a cold blow to Arthur's gut. Here it was, the man finally admitting to killing Arthur's mother. And now he was going to do the same to Arthur.

“I've planned this for a long time,” Cenred continued, moving around Arthur and watching him closely. “Perhaps I should just throw you over the balcony? It would take them days to find you and I'd be long gone by then.” He paused for a moment, as if considering. “But then I wouldn't have the satisfaction of watching you beg for your life.”

Had he not been gagged, Arthur would have made some defiant comment about never begging. The reality of the situation, however, was rapidly getting out of hand.

The door opened again and Arthur saw the scarred man enter.

“Edwin, glad you could join us.”

So that was Edwin, the man Merlin had mentioned earlier.

The man who'd tried to kill him by throwing him over the side of the boat with nothing more than his mind.

“Did you take care of Emrys?” Cenred asked.

Edwin nodded, not taking his eyes off Arthur.

Arthur went wide-eyed at that, struggling to get free of his bonds because if they'd hurt Merlin …

“Oh, Pendragon, did you love him? How sweet,” Cenred deadpanned. “Well, at least you can rest in peace together.”

“Like hell.” There was a bang, the door bouncing off the wall as Merlin entered, his arm raised and his eyes glowing with magic.

“Get away from him,” Merlin growled, and and he sounded deadly.

Cenred looked outraged, but Edwin calmly stepped forward, raising his hand in a mirror position of Merlin's.

“I thought you said you'd dealt with him,” Cenred said.

“Well … that may have been a slight error on my part – then again, think how much it will break Pendragon to see the man he loves die in front of him.” Edwin was watching Merlin closely, even as Arthur fought with everything he had to break his bonds and come to Merlin's aid.

Cenred smirked and folded his arms. “Go ahead.”

Without warning, Edwin threw a fireball right at Merlin.

Making flowers grow, cleaning up spilt food, making Will's model airplane fly – they were all things Merlin had done with his magic over the years.

Never, though, never before had he had to fight with it.

As Edwin's fireball flew towards him, he acted on instinct, letting him magic swell out in front of him and form a shield.

As the fireball dissipated against it, Merlin moved further into the room, trying to get close to Arthur, but Edwin sent a wave of magic his way, knocking him off his feet and back against the wall.

He struggled against the magic wrapped around his chest and throat, eyes streaming with the effort as he was steadily choked. Faintly, he heard Arthur give a muffled shout and it was enough to help him fight back. Edwin's magic backed off at a lashing of his own and he dropped to the floor, unsteady on his feet.

He had enough time, however, to free Arthur from his bonds and he sprang to his feet.

Edwin knocked Arthur back in the same wave that swept Merlin off his feet and across the room. Merlin fell behind the bed, cracking his head nastily against the edge of the beside table and his vision wavered.

Something warm trickled down the side of his face.

“Just finish this, Edwin,” Cenred remarked. “I'm bored now.”

Edwin paused, his jaw tightening.

“No.”

“What?”

“No. I won't do it. Not until I've made him feel every bit of pain that Uther Pendragon made me feel.”

“We don't have time, and his friends will raise the alarm. I'll do it if you can't.” Cenred angrily moved forwards, as if he were going to push Edwin aside, but Edwin simply squeezed his fist, his eyes glowing a nasty shade of orange, and Cenred crumpled.

Merlin felt a faint pounding in his head and he was fighting to hold onto consciousness, but he didn't miss a thing as Edwin stepped towards Arthur, making him back up against the wall.

Edwin held out a hand, his grip on thin air steadily tightening as panic entered Arthur's expression and his hand went to his throat – trying to relieve the pressure of something that wasn't there.

“Merlin …” Arthur's faint wheeze was pitiful and his gaze found Merlin's, full of regret.

Clarity exploded in Merlin's mind, his magic reared up, one of the ceiling lights blew a fuse and the others flickered.

Edwin looked around uneasily.

Merlin managed to get to his feet, unsure of what his magic was doing, what _he_ was doing, but only that a great instinctive urge had swelled up to protect Arthur.

Edwin stepped away from Arthur, letting his magic go. Arthur dropped to the floor, choking for air.

Edwin tried to throw a spell at Merlin, but Merlin knocked it back with ease, throwing Edwin across the room where he hit the glass doors of the balcony and they shattered on impact.

Merlin followed him across the room, Edwin dragging himself to his feet and weakly raising a hand.

“You won't do it,” he hissed. “You don't have the guts.”

“Try me,” Merlin growled and threw out his hands. The force blasted Edwin backwards, off the balcony.

He fell silently.

* * *

Merlin had stood for some time at the balcony railing, trying to come to terms with what he had done, until he felt Arthur's hand on his shoulder and collapsed back into his touch.

Members of the crew, alerted by the noise had arrived moments later; Morgana, Leon and Mithian with them. There had been a beat of stunned silence before everyone started asking questions.

Cenred, it turned out, was only unconscious, and Merlin saw Leon give Arthur a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

“We'll get him for it this time.”

Management arrived and Bayard was giving Merlin deadly looks as if somehow this was all his fault. Then Arthur had been dragged away for questioning, promising to meet Merlin in the morning in the atrium.

After having to tell his own version of events, carefully leaving out any mention of magic, and Edwin, once he found out no one called Edwin was even on the ship's records, Merlin was exhausted. He met Gwaine, Gwen and Lance in the bar, but was more than happy to avoid the party going on there.

By the time he made it to his room, he was dead on his feet, and happily crashed into bed, asleep almost instantly.

 

 


	5. Day Five

It was all George's fault, Merlin decided. The man had insisted on a last minute polishing session of the cutlery, and even though Merlin pointed out there were other people paid to do that, George had somehow convinced him into it, despite desperate refusals.

Two hours later, a sparkling row of cutlery laid out before them and George finally decided they had finished.

Merlin had escaped only to be waylaid by Bayard, who had wanted a full run down of the happenings of the previous evening and demanded to know why Merlin had become “involved” as he put it, with a passenger. It was a conversation that left Merlin blushing furiously, and horribly aware of the time slipping away. Bayard had also sent him off without a reference due to “improper conduct”.

As he dashed down the stairs into the atrium, it was with a sinking heart, because even before he arrived, he knew Arthur wasn't there.

It was typical, he decided, that the man of his dreams would come along, and in the end, Merlin would lose him over something like polishing cutlery. Will would probably laugh at him, his mum would be partly sympathetic, partly horrified, when he told her exactly what had happened on the cruise, and it would be back to his flat, searching for part-time jobs and staring out at the sea in the hope that one day he'd be able to get away.

Part of him was more than a little angry at Arthur. Merlin had saved the prat's life after all and for him to just leave … Perhaps the reality of what had happened had hit Arthur, and he didn't want to be with a magical freak like Merlin anymore, he thought glumly.

Collecting his bags, he headed for the gangway, wondering if perhaps Gwaine, or Gwen and Lance were still around to cheer him up, but the port and car park seemed almost completely deserted.

He stood on the pavement, digging his phone out of his pocket to call for a taxi when a car pulled up in front of him and the passenger side window wound down.

“I was beginning to think you'd left without me,” came a voice from within.

Merlin dropped his phone.

Arthur grinned at him from inside the car and then slid from the driver's seat and out of the car, to look at Merlin over the roof, a smug smile on his face.

“You lost me my job,” was the first thing that came into Merlin's head.

Arthur had the good grace to look a little guilty.

“I can't help being desperately handsome, and in need of a little saving,” he replied.

Merlin, somewhat lost for words, looked for some fitting form of reply and simply settled on: “Prat.”

“But a good-looking prat,” Arthur responded, moving around the car to join Merlin on the pavement.

“I'll give you that,” Merlin acknowledged, wrapping his arms around Arthur's shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss.

“I thought you'd gone without me,” he said when they broke.

Arthur laughed a little.

“Merlin, in the short time I've known you, you've saved my life twice, defeated bad guys, revealed the existence of magic and proved to be the worst waiter I've ever known.”

Merlin pouted a little at the last one.

“And if there's one thing I know,” Arthur continued. “It's that I'm not getting rid of you any time soon.”

Merlin ducked his head in a smile.

“So, Morgana's a Seer?” Arthur raised an eyebrow and Merlin bit his lip.

“I'll be able to find someone to help her,” he replied.

“Well I've definitely got to keep you around, then,” Arthur said.

“All this work,” Merlin moaned. “I think I need a holiday.”

Arthur dangled his car keys in front of Merlin's face.

“Where do you want to go?”

Merlin hummed for a moment.

“Italy?”

Arthur tilted his head in consideration.

“I'll serve the wine?” he replied and Merlin whacked him half-heartedly on the arm.

“Anywhere but another cruise, I think,” Merlin said, letting Arthur guide him to the car.

“Yeah, I think after that, I'll survive without another cruise for a while.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART: When Summer's Over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711316) by [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/pseuds/fingerprintbruises)




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